


The Santa Affair

by spikesgirl58



Series: Twenty Five Days of Christmas [8]
Category: Man from Uncle - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex asked the age old question - is there really a Santa Claus?  Leave it to two UNCLE agents to providing the best answer possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Santa Affair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparky955](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparky955/gifts).



They crouched behind the chair and stared at the person before them.   He was so close they could almost touch him.

 

“See?  I told you Santy was real,” Irina whispered in a voice too loud to be ignored.

 

Santa paused in his filling of stockings and looked around.  Alex grabbed his little sister and clamped a hand over her mouth.

 

“Shhh.  If he hears you, he won’t leave us anything good,” Alex warned.  He was still a bit awestruck that Santa was actually there, in his house, filling his stocking, after all the terrible things he’d been saying.

 

It all started a few days after Thanksgiving.  He was horsing around on the jungle gym and his best friend, Arnie, brought it up.

 

“What are you getting for Christmas this year, Alex?” 

 

“I dunno, whatever Santa brings me, I guess.”

 

“Santa?  You don’t believe that old story, do you?  There is no Santa.”  Arnie was a few months older than him and very wise in the ways of the world.  Alex desperately wanted to be like him, so certain about everything that there was.

 

“There isn’t?  I’ve been being good for nuthin’?”  Irina had gotten into his room that morning and taken his GI Joe doll.  By the time Alex realized it and rescued his action figure, the Soldier of Fortune was wearing a pink tutu and attending a tea party.  It had taken all of his patience to ask politely for his soldier back for a retraining mission.  Then Mommy had yelled at him for kicking his toy through the mud.  Mommies just didn’t understand things at times.

 

“Your parents just tell you stuff like that to trick you.”  Arnie’s parents had divorced during the year and he was understandably mistrustful about the behavior of adults as a result. 

 

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, but in the back of his mind, he harbored a doubt.  So he did what he always did in such a situation.  He sought out the one person he knew would never lie to him.

 

“Grampy?”  Grampy looked over at him.  He was busy burping Inessa. 

 

“Yes, my boy, what can I do for you?”

 

“Is there room on your lap for me?  I got worries.”

 

Grampy laughed and nodded.  “Just give me a minute here.”  He continued to pat Inessa’s back and abruptly the baby let out a loud burp.  “You sound just like Poppy, Little One.”  He wiped her mouth and set her down in the playpen.  She gurgled and reached for her brother’s fist to suck.  Peter laughed and let her.

 

“I don’t understand babies, Grampy.”

 

“Is that your worry?”  Grampy helped him climb up and get settled.

 

“No.  A fella told me today that there ain’t no Santa.”

 

“No, Santa?  Of course there’s a Santa.  How else would you get presents on Christmas morning?”

 

“He tole me Mommy and Daddy do it.”

 

“And who is this man so wise in the ways of adults?”

 

“My friend, Arnie.”

 

Grampy wrapped his arms around him and hugged him.  Alex smiled and snuggled close.  His Grampy always smelled so good and Alex always felt so content in his arms.

 

“Let me tell you something, Alex.  Santa is alive as long as you want him to be.  Arnie has had a very bad go of things as of late.  He’s hurt inside, and he’s angry at anything that reminds him of the how things used to be before his parents decided to not stay married anymore.  You were just an easy target.”

 

“Well, what should I do?”

 

“You should be a friend and let him talk, but if anything he says makes you angry or confused, you come talk with your mommy or daddy or me or Poppy, okay?”

 

“’Kay.”  He wiggled out of the warm nest of his Grampy’s arms and gave his scratchy cheek a kiss. 

 

Still, Alex had doubts.

 

“Poppy, can I talk to you?”  All he could see of Poppy was his legs.  The rest of him was underneath the family car.  Poppy rolled out and Alex laughed.  “You got grease all over your face, Poppy.  You look like a circus clown.”

 

“I do?”  Poppy reached for the side mirror and looked.  “I guess I do.  What’s wrong?”

 

Alex sat down on the garage floor and sighed.  “A guy I know doesn’t believe Santa is real.”

 

“Of course he’s real.  He’s as real as you want him to be.”

 

“Do you believe in Santa Claus?”

 

Alex watched Poppy frown and then nod tightly.  “Yes, I do.  St. Nicholas is the embodiment of all that is good and loving about this time of the year.”

 

“Have you ever seen him?”

 

“No, but I can’t see gravity either, yet we know it is there.  It’s called the willful suspension of disbelief.  He lives because you want him to, not because he has to.”  Poppy wiped his greasy hand off on a rag.  “Do you understand the difference?”

 

“Uh, if I think Santa is real, then he is and if I don’t, then he isn’t?”

 

“Basically, yes.  St. Nicholas was born in the third century in the village of Patara.  He was very devout and followed God’s teaching.  He believed you needed to sell what you own and give the money to the poor in order to honor God.”

 

“Wow…”  Alex paused and thought about that.  “That’s sort of what Santa does, too.”

 

“After a fashion.  Did that help?”

 

“I think so.  Thanks, Poppy.”  He gave Poppy a hug and headed back into the house, passing his Mommy on the way in.

 

“I have cookies and milk,” she said, but Alex shook his head.

 

“No, thank you, Mommy.  I have some thinkin’ to do.”

 

A week later, Alex was still wracked with uncertainty.    The more he talked to his compatriots, the more confused he became. 

 

He had retreated to a large cardboard box with his blue woobie and Teddy. 

 

“Hey, Alex?” 

 

He poked his head out and frowned.  “What do you want, Reenie?”

 

“Whacha doing?”

 

“I’m thinking.”

 

“Is it something you have to do alone or can I help?”

 

It would have been easy to tell her to go away, but until he was one hundred percent certain that there was no Santa, he was hedging his bets.  “You can come in.”

 

Irina crawled into the box and sighed.  “It’s lovely in here.  I love what you’ve done with the walls.”

 

“Huh?”  Alex looked at the walls that he’d scribbled on while in thought.  “I was just drawin.’”

 

“Whacha thinking about so hard?”

 

“Grown-up stuff.”

 

“Good or bad grown-up stuff?”

 

“I don’t know ‘zactly.”  He hugged Teddy tight.  “Arnie says there isn’t a Santa.”

 

“Arnie sucks his thumb when nobody’s looking,” Irina said quietly.  “He said it’s making his brain bigger, but it isn’t.  He’s dumb.”

 

“He’s my friend,” Alex protested loudly.

 

“He’s lucky.”  Irina said quietly.  “I wish I was your friend sometimes.”

 

“You can’t be my friend, you’re my sister… and that’s way better.”

 

“Thanks, Alex, I love you.”

 

“I love you, too, but that still don’t help me with Santy.”

 

“Let’s stay up and watch for him.”

 

“Mommy wouldn’t let us.”

 

“She doesn’t have to know.  You can set your alarm clock and get me up.  What time does Santa come?”

 

“I don’t know… late, I think.”  There was noise outside the box and Alex stopped talking.  He poked his head out, but the bedroom he shared with Irina was empty.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I thought I heard something.”

 

“Maybe it was one of Santa’s elves.”

 

“More like Petey or Nessa.”  He sat back down and picked Teddy back up.  “We’re pretty lucky, though.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Least we know about Santa.  They’re just babies.”

 

So, on Christmas Eve, they crept down the stairs and to the family room where the Christmas tree stood, sparkling and pretty.  Mommy had left the lights on so that Santa would know they were home and just a little bit of fire was left in the fireplace.

 

Alex led Irina to a spot he’d picked out and wrapped his woobie around them.  Both of them had just about nodded off when a sound brought them to awareness.

 

“Alex, what’s that?”  Irina looked around, a little scared.

 

“Shh, I’ll look.” 

 

Alex’s mouth dropped open at the sign of a man all dressed in red and carrying a very large white bag.  He wasn’t all that big, but neither were elves. Santa was an elf.  He was fat, though, and he looked kind. 

 

They watched as Santa moved slowly through the room, filling stockings and placing presents beneath the tree.  Then he started to leave the room, turned and looked directly at them.

 

Irina gasped and grabbed Alex, but Santa merely smiled, winked, then moved slowly and quietly from the room.  The children stayed frozen in that spot for a long time.

 

“There is a Santa Claus,” Alex whispered.  “I knew it. Grampy said to believe in my heart and it would tell me the truth.”  He looked over at the mantle clock and pointed.  “We should go back to bed now, Reenie.  There’s still lots of night to go and I’m cold.”

 

They were creeping up the stairs when they saw Grampy in the hallway.

 

“Grampy!  Grampy!” Alex shouted and ran towards him. 

 

“What are you two doing out of bed?”

 

“We saw Santa!  We saw Santa!”

 

“Did you?  Shh, don’t wake up the babies.”  He picked up Irina, took Alex’s hand and walked them back to their beds.  He got them tucked in and started to leave but Alex pulled on his sleeve, tugging him closer.

 

“Grampy?”

 

“Yes, Alex?”

 

“How come Santa walks funny like Poppy?”

 


End file.
